Final Act
by Mizzy
Summary: “Thank you, goodbye.” Three people receive a note from Hedwig in the morning of the first day back. Who is it from? And why isn’t Harry there? H/D slash.
1. Act One

Final Act 

**SUMMARY: **"Thank you, goodbye."  Three people receive a note from Hedwig in the morning of the first day back.  Who is it from?  And why isn't Harry there?  H/D slash.

**DISCLAIMER: **Harry Potter and co. doesn't belong to me at all.  I've made no money from this.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **Well this is…  my attempt to do something like "Nothing To Lose" without the sappy ending.  So it has a sad ending – like my short fic "Relief In Your Eyes" – so if you want a happy ending, you're all going to have to clamour very loud, ok, so I can give up my resolve and write a happy ending.  Else it'll ALL be sad.  I'm warning you!  Oh, and it seems to be set in the same universe as "Lost moments, shattered dreams."  Cool.  I realised that when I was on the fifth page.  My brain is pretty much one track these days.  Bwahh humbug.  So treat this as a sequel.  I think Arthur or Lucius shall make an appearance in the next chapter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and climbed over the bench; quickly pulling up a plate and beginning to pile it up with food.

"Morning Hermione."  
  


Hermione looked up and smiled at Ron.  "Good morning.  It's nice to be back.  That last holiday stretched on for ever!"

"Yeah, well, with everything last year stretched on for ages too," Ron said.  Silence hung between them for a second and Hermione absent-mindedly filled her plate with sausages, egg and bacon before the bushy-haired witch blinked.

"Where _is _Harry?" She asked suddenly; noticing his absence.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged; muttering through a mouthful of bread.  "I guess he was tired out after the journey.  He barely said a word the entire way."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.  "I guess he'll have had a tough summer after… You-know-what."

"I heard the muggles he lived with were killed," a subdued Irish voice floated down from higher up the table.  Hermione and Ron looked up quickly to see Seamus looking at them.

"What?" Hermione blinked violently.

"That can't have happened, I mean he would have come to stay with us, right?  Right?" Ron looked concerned.  "Unless Snuffles…"

"It was in the paper.  I might still have it."  Seamus moved his plate to sit across from Ron and Hermione and he pulled out a book.  "I was using a page from the Daily Prophet as a bookmark," he explained in response to Hermione's puzzled look.  "Here."  He handed over the scrap of paper.

Hermione grabbed hold of it and began to read it; troubled eyes scanning over the paper.  "31st July, the dark mark was found once again in a small village in Surrey, Little Whinging.  The two houses hit were that of Arabella Figg and of Harry Potter and the muggles he lives with.  Arabella Figg (66) was missing, and the three muggles' bodies were found charred outside the house.  Harry Potter was himself taken to safety by two unnamed people and the ministry confirms that the boy, now 16, is all right apart from being traumatised.  Along with the events of last summer and the Triwizard Tournament and the death of fellow contestant Cedric Diggory, the Boy Who Lived has had a lot of trauma.  As he starts his fifth year of Hogwarts we wish him a safe year with no conflict or death."

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered.  "He never said in his letters."  
  


"Same here," Hermione said; just as softly.  "No wonder he's not at breakfast.  He must be finding it hard to deal with anything at the moment."

"I know I couldn't do it," Seamus added.

Something hitting Hermione on the head drew her attention and she frowned before bending over to see what it was.

"Look, there's Hedwig," Ron said quickly.  Hermione picked up the thick envelope and watched curiously as the white owl dropped an envelope on none other than Draco Malfoy's head.

"Weird," Seamus commented.  "Bet you anything that's full of bubotuber pus."

"Doubt it," Hermione tossed him a small wry smile.  "He's not like that."  Her gaze flickered down to the envelope.  "Hey Hedwig must have brought this too."

Ron peeked over her shoulder at the scrawled names on the envelope – "Ron and Hermione" – obviously in Harry's handwriting.  "Open it then," Ron said; almost tentatively.

Looking down, Hermione ripped open the envelope and a scrap of parchment fluttered out.  Ron picked it up and then frowned at it.

"What?  That makes no sense!"  

Hermione's eyes narrowed.  "What makes no sense?"

"This."  Ron passed over the scrap of parchment.  Hermione took the cream-coloured scrap and stared at it in horror.

"_Thank you.  Goodbye."_

"Oh gods…" She said softly.  "It's –" 

Whatever she was about to say was quickly interrupted by the door slamming and someone running through it.  The entire Slytherin table was in consternation.

"It's Harry," Hermione said softly; jumping out of her seat and starting to run out.  Ron's eyes widened and he literally jumped over the Gryffindor table to follow Hermione out of the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione hit the hallways at a full-blown run, Ron hot on her heels.  She faintly registered the fact that she'd just passed Professor Snape in the hallways and the Potions Professor was glaring at them in complete disbelief.  The whole thing was a mad dash up stairways just to get to the Gryffindor dorms.

"HARRY? HARRY!"  Hermione surprised herself by being able to shriek as she ran.  She pulled up her robes above her waist to make it easier to run and she could hear her heart pounding ruthlessly in her ears and she gulped; trying to draw in as much air as possibly.  "Please let it not be too late!"

"HARRY!" Ron bellowed.  They breathlessly tore round the corner to the Gryffindor dorms and stared in shock to see Draco Malfoy red in the face; yelling at the Fat Lady.

"—I don't care _what _the freakin' rules say, I _have _to get in there, _please!"_

Hermione and Ron skidded to a halt; Ron's inertia carrying him into the wall where he acquired a huge bruise that would last for the rest of the month.

"I'm afraid I can't.  Unless the password is given," the Fat Lady said; her tone annoyed.

"But he'll _die if you don't do anything, he'll… He could already… Just let me in damn you!"  The blonde slammed his fist into the wall and suddenly clenched it; the pain suddenly acknowledging itself in his brain._

"Casu consulto!" Hermione yelled into the stunned silence.  The Fat Lady stared at her in amazement.

"But you can't… With _that here…  Oh well…"  The Fat Lady gave them a dubious look and swung open.  Hermione picked up her robes again and scrambled through the porthole, not looking back to see whether Ron or Malfoy was following her.  She scrambled into the common room, where Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevy were having a spirited discussion.  They leapt to their feet, startled, as Hermione, Ron and Malfoy all scrambled in; looking dishevelled, distraught and just plain worried._

            "HARRY?"  Malfoy pushed past Ginny and began to take the staircase two at a time, relying on pure instinct to get him to where he needed to be.

            "What in all Tartarus is going _on?" Ginny squealed as Ron pushed past her too.  Dread pounding in her ears she followed them up to the boys' dormitories._

            "Harry?!"

            The door to the boy's dormitories broke open and slammed to the ground; the hinges wrenched off the frame.  Hermione couldn't stop her heart pounding so fast and she felt dizzy. She didn't want to look, didn't want to see what she knew must be there…

            "Oh god, no…"  
            Ron's quiet exclamation told her everything she needed to know.  Tentatively she lifted up her gaze and then had to immediately turn away; aggressively throwing up at the sight.  

            Malfoy stood there motionlessly; clinically noticing the crumbled slender body on the ground, pale and stark against the crimson and brown stain flooding along the floor,  the wrists savagely mangled and torn and the careless way it sprawled on the floor.

            Ron blanched and his stomach heaved.  He dropped to his knees in disbelief.

            "Oh my god."  
            From the doorway Ginny clapped her hands over her face.  Hermione trembling, held the younger girl in her arms and they both stood there waveringly; in shock.

            As if he was moving all on his own, Malfoy stepped forwards and knelt down; ignoring the fact his robes were being stained by Harry's blood.  He tentatively reached his hands out; his face blank and expressionless and he drew back his hand quickly before gently pulling Harry's arms out.  He ripped at his robes suddenly and dark strips of cloth pulled away and he quickly tied them as tight as he could around the long gashes horizontally across his wrist.

            "Malfoy, what are you --  Is he?"  Ron couldn't stop the note of hope that trembled in his voice.

            "Idiot can't do anything right," Malfoy said shakily; carefully picking up the light – _way too light, like a feather, a freakin' feather, oh gods,  - body and without a backwards glance began to run like there was no tomorrow._

------------------------

            "I don't understand.  Why?"

            Hermione heard Ginny's words but couldn't feel them; couldn't feel anything.  She was numb and the only thing she felt was a light sensation – like she was floating away and not really there at all.

            "I don't know, Ginny."  Ron's voice was flat –monotone even - and it struck Hermione how fast things can change; how one minute you can be on top of the wheel flying high in the sky and the next minute the wheel has dragged you down in the mud; into the depths of hell itself.

            "Have you ever had your whole world turned upside down?  Thought you were doing entirely the right thing and discovered all along it was truly evil?"

            Ginny turned at Malfoy's voice; suddenly paling.

            "Yes," she admitted in a squeak barely above a whisper.

            "Yes, he told me about the diary incident…  Well, the accidents weren't your fault, were they?  So everyone says.  It's the truth.  But I bet there's some part of you, deep in your heart, where you _know you instinctively __know that it __was your fault.  That you could have resisted it.  That you could have fought the change.  That you could have maybe prevented it all from the beginning, with hindsight of course __anything's possible," Malfoy paused by the door; rubbing an arm over his forehead and pinching his nose.  He moved his hand away and stared at the youngest Weasley; his gaze penetrating.  Ginny hung her head._

            "Don't you dare believe that!  Do you hear me?  Never again!  You couldn't have done _anything!"  Ron suddenly flared into life; grabbing his sister's shoulders fiercely under she yelled in pain.  He let go off her; looking embarrassed.  "Sorry… I'm sorry…"_

            "We all know you weren't responsible," Malfoy continued.  "But you don't.  That's the vital thing, isn't it?"  His gaze travelled flatly to the door.  "_He knew he couldn't have done anything, but he didn't.  Two ends of the scale that clashed in his head until he couldn't think of anything but his responsibility."  
            "Responsibility?" Ginny raised her eyes to the blonde.  He stared at her._

            "The responsibility for everyone here at Hogwarts.  When Cedric died, and then weeks later the only family he's ever truly known were murdered by someone he thought he should have been able to stop or at least have been killed trying to stop him…  His spirit completely crumpled.  I had to stand by him for nine weeks watching him destroy himself more and more every day," Malfoy stopped; his brow wrinkled and eyes cold and detached.

            "What do you mean by that?" Ron asked; now holding his little sister protectively.

            "He had to go somewhere after the muggles were killed.  Dumbledore in all his wisdom sent him to us to look after.  To mother and I," Malfoy quickly clarified.  At the curious stares he got he sighed.  "We're not _all bad, just Father.  He left us at the start of the holidays to be with the master he claims will destroy every muggle lover in the land."  Malfoy stopped; taking a deep gulp of air and leaning out one arm to steady himself.  Although the pale boy was normally very white he seemed almost luminescent now, pure white, and his whole body was visibly trembling.  "He opened up to me in a way I've never known; spilling his secrets to me in bursts that were almost painful.  Have you ever had someone's soul ripped open and put on display for your eyes only?  It's incredible.  It almost killed me, let alone him.  To have lived through all that pain… No-one else would have had the courage to—"  Here Malfoy looked at the door again before physically wrenching his gaze away.  "To last this long."_

            "Malfoy?"

            It was the first time Hermione had spoken since they'd got back downstairs and the horrible news had leaked out.

            Malfoy turned to her; his eyes shining with tears.

            "What was in the note he sent you?"

            Malfoy turned away and folded his arms.  "He told me that the only time he'd tell me what he truly felt for me, past all the blustering and arguing and the false fronts we put up, would be the day he died."

            Ron nodded slowly.  "I thought you two hated each other," he said numbly.

            Malfoy snorted.  "Hardly.  Sure we're rivals, he stands for everything that I don't…  But it was never hate.  Only rivalry.  And for the fact I majorly pissed him off for cracking fun at you guys."

            "Cracking fun?  Malfoy, you git!  You completely insult us all the time!" Ginny leapt to her feet; eyes burning.

            "And tell me you don't deserve it for all the things you've done to me in return?"  Malfoy turned away.  "You spawned all attempts at my attempts of early friendship.  I may remind you that I offered friendship first, and the first person to laugh was actually your brother."

            _Think my name's funny, do you?_

            Ron hung his head.  "It'll be the same deal I had though, your father warned you about us, our father warned us against you."  
            Malfoy's head shot up; in quick understanding.  "I see.  I guess it all makes sense now… A rivalry from our parents passed down… Unfortunate.  I wonder why they're so mad at each other."

            "Possibly because all Malfoys are gits," Ron said; sniffling into the silence.

            "All Weasleys are fools," Malfoy said absent-mindedly.  "But that's besides the point.  Someone very special _in there," – Malfoy jerked his head towards the closed door – "tried to do something stupid which may have killed may not have.  What's for sure is that he was irrevocably changed.  And if – when – he wakes up we will kick his ass and then sort it all out."_

            The room fell silent.

            "So what _did the note say?"  Ginny asked abruptly.  "How does he feel about you?"_

            Malfoy's face twisted into a leer.  "He hates me.  What else."

            Ginny managed a tight smile while Ron managed a soft laugh.

            "Are you still all out here?"

            The four turned to see the door slowly push open and Professor McGonagall slip out; her face pale and brow wrinkled.

            "How is he?"  Ron leapt to his feet again; squeezing Ginny's hand and this time the flame-haired girl didn't notice the pain.

            Professor McGonagall winced suddenly.  "I…  He's…  It's a little touch and go still.  He lost an extreme amount of blood and we've done all we can…   All we can do is wait and see if he survives the night.  If he does then there's a good chance he'll be all right, but…  He was almost dead when you got him to us.  All we can do is hope it was soon enough."

            "Can we go in and see him?" Hermione asked waveringly.

            Professor McGonagall shook her head; tears in her eyes.  "No.  He's too fragile…  All I can suggest is that you take it easy today, go to the kitchens, and get yourselves something to eat.  You don't have to attend classes today, it'd be too much with all this happening…"

            "Why can't you do anything?" Ginny asked; wavering.  "With all this magic it's –"

            "Even with magic we can't bring dead people back, Ginny," Professor McGonagall looked saddened.  "If we did the world would be a less frightful place I imagine.  Magic is not always the solution.  We've done all that is humanly possible.  All we can do is wait and hope.  I just need you to take into consideration that his chances are not good."

            "Thank you Professor," Malfoy cut in quickly.  "Can we come back in the morning to see how he is?"

            "Of course.  Now off you go," Professor McGonagall said softly; turning away abruptly and re-entering the room – locking the door behind her.

            Malfoy stared at the door for a few seconds before abruptly turning away; leaving them standing there in complete disbelief.  Only Ginny noticed the small fragment of parchment that dropped to the ground from his robes as he made his hasty exit.  She dropped down and picked it up; tears forming as she read the hastily scribbled words on it.

            "No wonder he's taking this as badly as us," Ginny said; her voice catching.  "Why didn't he tell us?  Huh?"

            "Tell us what?" Hermione looked at her gently; her eyes still inexpressive and impassive.

            "How bad he had this…" Ginny trailed off and wordlessly passed Ron and Hermione the parchment.  Ron's breath caught in his throat and his gaze lifted to where Malfoy had left the room.  Hermione tremblingly read the words on the paper before meeting Ginny's troubled gaze.

            "You're right.  I wish he wasn't such a git.  He needs friends in a time like this that understand exactly what he's going through," Ron said; his voice tight.

            "I don't think we do," Hermione said dazedly.

            "Don't think we do what?" Ginny asked; confused.

            "Know what he's going through," Ron said softly.  His face clouded and then cleared.  "Come on.  We have to do what she said.  Let's go get some food."

            "I'm not hungry," Hermione said distractedly.

            "Let's go and get some food," Ron repeated sternly; his trembling hands betraying his now stern mask.

            "OK," Hermione said uncertainly.  Ron put the parchment down on the bench and started to steer the two girls to the kitchens.

            Inside the room, Professor McGonagall uncast the spell she'd been using to spy on the children to make sure they were OK.  They weren't, but in any outcome, they would be…  Pushing open the door she crossed to the bench and sat down on it; fingering the tattered scrap of parchment before lifting it to her face to read the scrawled writing.  The meaning stuck in her head and she finally was able to cry; tears that racked her body and that couldn't be stopped.  Tears for the end of innocence, for the unjust and just not right things that they had to endure, for the evil that plagued their world and hearts…  She read the words over and over again before placing the note back in her pocket; knowing that the Slytherin would want to keep the message.

_I love you.  Goodbye.  _


	2. Act Two Take One

Final Act 

**Act II  Take I**

**DISCLAIMER: **As before, none of it belongs to me.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **Hey, you seem to have given me free reign to do either ending.  Damn.  I was hoping for someone to clamour for one ending in particular then I wouldn't have to think about it so hard.  So… you're getting both endings!  I will post the first chapter again, under "Final Act II" but with the alternate ending.  Should be done by the end of January.  I have exams at the beginning of January, though, so give me some time.

**DEDICATED: **To MiniMe.  Again?  Is she complaining? She says all my stuff is poignant.  I think I really *do* need to expand her vocabulary!  Thanks anyway for the continued support.  It's the support and the reviews that keep me going. Thanks.

----------------------------

                Malfoy was tired.  That's all he knew - an all-encompassing weariness that seemed to resonate within his entire being; which seemed to permeate his bones and make him feel faint.  He was finding it hard to even function at the basic level.  Rudimentary motor functions were all but lost and his thoughts were all over the shop.

                The most surprising thing had been the support of those he had himself spurned over his years at Hogwarts.  The muggle lovers and mudbloods he had insulted and generally treated like muck had turned around and accepted him into their friendship group so rapidly and smoothly it was like he'd never not been there.  He was well aware he didn't fit the gaping hole that was left after…

                Malfoy swallowed.

                It was best not to dwell on recent events.

                Too much thoughts on the subject left him a quivering wreck and if he was going to perform the most elementary of tasks tomorrow then he needed the rest.  Detached eyes raised to the ceiling and he ignored his pounding brain and commanded it silently: _Sleep._

                Sleep did come eventually; creeping up on him in the early hours of the morning.  The few hours snatched were full of horrendous nightmares; being trapped in an endless mirror maze with no way out and being alone forever.  Forever, forever… And a mocking laugh Malfoy knew could have belonged to only one person.

                He woke up as the early rays of dawn lanced across his pillow; the aurora that normally gave him some small sense of being filing him with dread instead.  Lifting up leaden feet he lifted away the acid-green coverlet that decorated his bed and pushed himself upwards; clinically noticing he'd kicked the white bed linen off the bed and it was lying screwed up and sprawled all over the floor.  He'd done that a lot when he was younger and had had nightmares.  Not recently though.  Not until…

                Malfoy clenched his fists and blinking to improve his vision he stumbled through to the bathroom.  Reaching out haphazardly for the taps he turned on the cold tap and splashed icy cold water on his face; the cold sting bringing some more sense of his awareness to him.  He raised his face to the cracked mirror in front of him and he winced.  Lifting up his hand he inspected it; the silvery scars twisting over the once smooth alabaster surface from when he had put his hand through the mirror last morning after the… discovery.  He lifted his hands down again; scrubbing at them in the bitterly cold water.  His eyes seemed almost sunk into his face and withdrawn.  Frown marks that had not been there before creased his forehead and he had a distinctly grey pallor that Madam Pomfrey would not be pleased with.  He pulled a face and withdrew his almost numb hands from the water.

                Slipping out of the dormitory after having put on a fresh robe he climbed down the stairs and into the common room; impassive grey eyes sweeping over the deserted Slytherin dormitory.  The fire crackled in the corner and Malfoy turned away; feeling almost nauseous.  The round room was an almost exact copy of the Gryffindor one and he turned back to look at the stairs with a queasy glance.

                Forcing himself to move, he pulled back the portrait and clambered out of the hall; deciding to make his way to the hall.  Even this early in the morning it was a decent place to wait.

                As he padded down the hallway he realised he'd forgotten to put anything on his feet.  The cold stone numbed his feet and he almost turned back but stopped at the last minute.  It wasn't school today; uniform wasn't regulatory.  The entire school was officially in mourning for the day.

                A bitter smile graced his lips.  If Harry was here he would have been suitably saddened by the death, but then would have followed by trying to cheer everyone up; probably by commenting that they didn't have Potions, and that _that idiot Malfoy_ didn't have any shoes on.  Harry had teased him a lot that he liked to go barefoot and feel the earth on his bare skin.

                "Stop thinking of him in past tense, he's going to be ok," Malfoy admonished himself sharply.  He suddenly realised he'd done that out loud and paused; jerking around in the hallway.  No-one had heard it thankfully.  He didn't know what he would have done if Peeves had heard him talk to himself like that.

                The way to the main hall was curiously absent; completely empty.  The sounds of bare feet padding across the stone echoed eerily against the walls.  Malfoy decided he didn't like it; the sound made him feel sick.  Picking up his robes he began to run; run away from the echoing sounds like clung to him like tendrils of mist.  Still running he slammed into the main hall; breathing hard with stars dancing across his vision.  He closed the door and leant back against it; eyes closing as he rested against the heavy frame.  When he finally looked up he met the gaze of the only other three occupants of the hall; all sat subdued at the Gryffindor table.  

                Malfoy's heart skipped a beat at Ron's mildly curious look and began to stalk past them to his own table but was stopped by a hand gripping his arm.  He looked at Ginny in surprise.  His mouth opened to say something but he stopped under her quelling stare.

                "Don't be an idiot.  Sit with us.  The professors won't mind," Ginny said firmly; the waver in her tone betraying the fragility she felt.

                "What if I mind?" Malfoy managed; finding it hard to speak.

                Ginny raised her arm and suddenly Malfoy felt a stinging pain across his cheeks.  He lifted his hand automatically to his cheeks; feeling a couple of angry red welts rise up.

                "Wha—" he began.  Ginny silenced him with a stare.

                "Sit with us," she repeated.

                Malfoy raised an eyebrow.  "I never knew the females of the Weasley's actually had backbones."

                Ginny regarded him with a humourless glance.  "You've never met our mum.  Come."  
                Silently Malfoy followed her; gingerly climbing in next to Hermione as Ginny climbed in next to her brother.  Hermione pushed a plate over to him and he raised an eyebrow.

                "We brought something for you," Ron said; his voice a little flat but he still appeared normal apart from the black eyes and pasty pallor.

                Malfoy stared at Ron for a few seconds.  "Thank you," he managed.  "Has Professor McGonagall, as she…   I mean…"

                "No," Hermione said; knowing exactly what he meant.

                "Did you just say thank you?"  Ginny looked bewildered.  "Weird!"

                "Weird?"  Malfoy raised an eyebrow and scowled before kicking the young redhead in the shins.

                "Hey!"  Ginny glowered, looked down and then lifted up the edge of Malfoy's robes.  "Why don't you have any shoes on?  Your feet are damn freezing!"

                "Virginia Weasley, your language!" Ron interrupted before stopping in his tracks.  "You have no shoes on?"  
                Malfoy shrugged.  "Forgot."

                Hermione rolled her eyes.  "You're like my dad.  He'd forget his head if it wasn't screwed on."

                Malfoy opened his mouth to retort then actually managed a weak smile.  "You know, muggles do have the funniest sayings."  
                "So do wizards," Hermione came back with.  "I mean, _birds of a feather clump together?_  Who came up with a half-cocked saying like that?  I mean it's not even highly original."

                Ron and Ginny levelled a stare at her and Malfoy managed to laugh around the pastry thing the Gryffindors had acquired for breakfast.

                About an hour later, most of the school was up.  The entire student body were subdued and no comments were made about Malfoy's addition to the Gryffindor table.  A couple of derogatory remarks were made, mostly by Seamus, about Malfoy's lack of suitable footwear.    Or _any _footwear.  The lack of disparaging comments made Malfoy being to re-evaluate his opinions on Gryffindors; to be honest, this re-evaluation had begun in the summer.

                As soon as Dumbledore rose to his feet at the conclusion of breakfast a thick silence fell; surrounding everyone completely.  The professor looked humbled and altogether much older than he'd been the previous day.  His entire position was one of a defeated man and the eternal twinkle was definitely not present in his eyes.

                "I'm sure you have all heard that Harry Potter is indeed in the infirmary.  Yesterday morning he was in a critical condition and I'm sure you are all curious about the events.   I'm sorry to inform you all that from his injuries and the amount of blood he lost, he died in the early hours of the morning."  He held up a hand to protest against the sharp gasp than ran across the hall.  "I can tell you of the circumstances of his death.  This was no suicide."  Again the mutterings ran wild around the hall but subdued again when Dumbledore held up his hand.  "This was of Voldemort's doing.  His exploits last summer drove Harry to indeed take his own life from all the guilt he felt, but this is of Voldemort's cause.  Another death which could have been avoided; caused by someone you all here can't even be brave enough to say his real name."  Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably.  "The funeral is this afternoon.  I expect you all to attend, although it is of course, not compulsory.  Harry was one of the bravest people I've ever known; taking on tasks even grown wizards would not be able to accomplish.  But even he could not alone destroy Voldemort's hold on him.  That's why we all have to work together.  When in the future you feel like you don't want to work with anyone else; that you're fine on your own, remember this moment and remember what happens when we try to take on the impossible on your own.  Remember this.  Remember Harry."

                "Remember Harry." 

                The response from the students echoed hollowly throughout the hall; ghosted by all throughout the hall.

                "Classes are indeed cancelled for the day.  Please use this time to reflect on these events.  That will be all.  Dismissed."

                The entire students body seemed to be in collective shock.  Hermione looked pale and shaken, Ron's jaw was set and determined, Ginny was trembling and Malfoy just sat there; staring into space.  There was a trembling movement near the Ravenclaw table and a completely stunned Cho Chang rose to her feet and held up her goblet.

                "To Harry.  Another victim of..  Voldemort."

                "To Harry."  Goblets were raised and students got to their feet in memorial but it was too much for Malfoy.  His goblet slipped out of his fingers and crashed to the ground; glass shards splintering across the ground.  The sudden sound in the silence caused everyone to twist to look at Malfoy who just stared at the fragments before pushing past the others and brusquely running out of the hall.

                Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Professor McGonagall who watched Malfoy's departure sadly.  Her gaze flickered to her clenched hands on the tabletop and she reached within her robes to retrieve the fragment of parchment that Malfoy had dropped yesterday.  Wordlessly she passed it to Dumbledore.

                "Draco Malfoy received this from Harry minutes before the… discovery," she said; her voice and eyes impassive.  Dumbledore's breath caught in his throats as his gaze trailed across the parchment.

                "Keep an eye on him, Minerva," he said eventually.  "In circumstances like this…  He may do something stupid."  Dumbledore's gaze moved across to where Hermione, Ron and Ginny were sat; complete stilled and shaken.  "The others are not as likely to, but… keep an eye on them too."

                Minerva nodded; her eyes shining with unshed tears.  "Always."

                Hermione, Ron and Ginny looked at each other; breaths rising in clouds to float away in the air.  Ron swallowed and lifted his hand to rap on the door.  The door cracked open but Hagrid didn't invite them in.  He slipped out of the house; tears running down his cheeks.

                "'Afternoon," Hagrid said softly.  "The funeral were beautiful weren't it… Fitting fer such a lovely lad…"

                Ginny gulped.  "Yes.  We were wondering if you'd seen…"

                Hagrid tossed a look back to his closed doors.  "He's in there.  Cryin' his heart out because the boy he loved took his own life."

                "Well, will you…  Tell him we're here for him if he needs his friends…  And tell him where the grave is… I'm sure he'd like… Like to see it," Hermione said; wringing her pale hands worriedly.  Hagrid nodded; fresh tears coursing down his cheeks.  He nodded gruffly.

                "Take care of yerselves," he said roughly; turning to leave them.

                "Hagrid, we're here if you need us too," Ron said on the spur of the moment; his voice catching slightly.  Hagrid turned back; his eyes distant but knowing.  His face crinkled into a smile and he reached out his hand; ruffling Ron's hair.

                "Thanks," he said softly; turning and closing the door.

                "Come on," Ginny said; pulling at their hands.  "Professor Sprout said she had some lilies which we could…  I think they would be appropriate."

_Harry Potter_

_31st July 1981 – 4th September 1996_

_Inspirer of hope, another victim of_

_a great evil._

_We will remember him._

                Ginny resembled a small bush as she traipsed up to the gravestone flanked by Ron and Hermione.  The herbology professor had presented them with the most beautiful lilies they'd ever seen.  Professor Sprout had haltingly explained how she grew normal flowers in greenhouse five because they '_might come in useful'_.  As they approached the solitary grave stone standing in the centre of the flowerbeds (Professor McGonagall had thought this appropriate) Ron held up an arm to stop Hermione and Ginny in their tracks.

                "Look."  The whispered words made them look up.  Malfoy was stood there silently in front of the gravestone; hands in the pockets of an entirely huge black coat.  Hagrid had obviously leant the young blonde his coat.  His mouth was moving and Hermione lifted her wand so they could eavesdrop on what he was saying.  His words now carried over to them as they crouched behind a large bush.

                "You always said you'd probably come to a sticky end.  Mind you, you also said you thought I'd be laughing and dancing on your grave.  Can't you see me?  I'm not laughing _or _dancing."  He swallowed.  "You always underestimated me Potter.  Always took me as someone else.  I was someone else.  I was you."  He looked away briefly before flat grey eyes came to rest upon the gravestone again.  "I'm tired Potter.  I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not.  I'm tired of trying to live life without you.  I can't.  It's ironic that we both die so quietly; by muggle methods.  I love you too, Harry.  Goodbye."

                The impact of Malfoy's words didn't quite hit the three crouched behind the bushes till it was too late.  They didn't see Malfoy reach into his robe's pocket and delicately bring out a small metal object.  But they heard the crack of the gun as it fired.  They all saw the slender blonde body crumple to the ground; grey eyes glazing over…  but in that same moment, an eternal moment that would forever stick in their hearts, they thought they saw relief in those silvery depths.

                A high pitched scream filled the air in sheer desperation and complete disbelief that this would happen.  It took Ginny a few moments to realise that the scream came from her and she shut her mouth; hitching up her robes and scrambling out to the clearing whilst the lilies fell from her grasp and scattered to the wind.  That was how the teachers found them; Ginny cradling Malfoy's body in her arms, crying inconsolably and Hermione and Ron watching the scene numbly whilst the lilies covered everything in a white blanket masking the evil that had been done there.  Dark blood washed over the lilies; staining an innocence irrevocably.  Innocence had been lost to evil and nothing would ever be the same again.  

In a way in this final act of the loss of purity, even though in the future he would be destroyed, Voldemort had already won.


	3. Act Two Take Two

FINAL ACT ACT TWO, TAKE TWO 

A/N: I don't know why you were all clamouring at me for making it sad!  No-one initially requested the fluffy ending!!!  So it's all your fault the sad one came first!!! ^^  Set in the same universe as Lost moment, shattered dreams ( http://mizzy.topcities.com/lmsd.htm )

Anyway, I have set up an archive for my fics, where the new fics from now on will go first (before ffn.)  http://mizzy.topcities.com  

But, for the exclusive fic news… To ask nosy questions about the fics and have them answered, for requests, name-drops, shout-outs, cookies or the latest fic then drop on down to my new Yahoo! discussion group / mailing list.  I'd be grateful if you could join ^^

Dedicated: To Anna.  Who has been subjecting the h/d strand at forums4fans.com to some of my more… dodgy stuff and who refuses to be an Arthur/Lucius shipper like me.  Grrrr. :)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.

---------------------

            It was so, so quiet.

            The silence was deafening.  Despite how many times he willed it; prayed to whatever deities were listening; wept and cried and swore until he was out of breath it was still so, so hushed.  He'd always thought that death was a pretty quiet business and accordingly had always, in his most vulnerable moments, surrounded himself with boisterous people and raucous sound.  It was a small flaw, but a flaw none-the-less.  

            The quiet scared him.

            It wasn't completely silent.  His breath hung raggedly in the air; his heart pounded against his rib cage like a trapped animal just trying to break free.  Every tiny little sound brought a quiet squeak of hope as he gingerly moved forwards to check if _he _was awake…

            A dripping sound crashed through the silence; shattering the still air.  Malfoy looked up quickly; eyes haggard from the continued surveillance and he sighed; disappointed.  The dripping sound increased in density and volume until it was a continual hammering sound and the sky turned black.  

            It was raining.  Fitting for the sombre mood of the painfully white infirmary.  The whole room stunk of complete sterility – as if nothing existed inside it.  Scowling he checked the clock on the wall; noticing the sharp red hands were pointing upwards…. _Midnight…_  He'd been there… how long?  Since McGonagall had returned his scrap of parchment and said he could watch.  The Transfiguration professor knew that if anything happened, Malfoy would be able to alert Madame Pomfrey who was in the next room.  The way she'd looked at him had completely caught his attention and struck a nerve in his senses.  The way she'd looked at him…  Like Harry was already dead.

_No._  He wasn't…  Somewhere deep in his being, something told him that the frail crumpled body lying stilly in the bed in front of him was alive…He refused to believe Harry would die.  That refusal was the only thing keeping him alive.  Ron, Hermione, Ginny, McGonagall… They all acted like Harry was dead…

A traitorous thought ran rampant in Malfoy's mind – what if Harry died?  What would he do?  The answer came swiftly; thudding into his chest and leaving him breathless.  If the pale creature of his dreams lying so forlornly in front of him must die, then so would he.  There were no complications about it.  Malfoy could not – would not – should not – live without him.

Malfoy almost laughed then.  It was a complete turnaround from his previous feelings of rivalry and the desire only to better his opponent.  Now, the same man that had captured his emotions - his _soul _– was the one deciding (albeit unintentionally) whether he should live or die.

Contrary to his strong decision, Malfoy didn't want to die.  He wanted to live; wanted to experience all of the joys in the world.  The only problem was he knew he couldn't experience them properly without Harry.  Nothing seemed right without him  Everything seemed so hollow - like the world was shattered into a million pieces and all he could do was kneel in the debris for eternity.

The rain continued to beat ruthlessly against the window; shaking the thin panels of glass with a furious passion.  It seemed to reflect Malfoy's own mood.  _How _could he do something like this?  He knew all of the reasons that ploughed through Harry's mind non-stop…. That plagued him from morning to night until all he could do was cry or scream or laugh with the futility of it all.  He'd watched him for nine weeks, each day dying a little more…  He'd wanted to say to Harry how much… he meant to him.  He wanted to tell Harry that he didn't have to face his demons alone.  He wanted to, but something stopped him.  

He'd never even had the correct aspects or traits to be a Gryffindor.  Malfoy had been a coward from birth; holding onto his reputation as a lifeline.  When he'd realised the foundations of that reputation were warped.. That his father was ready to betray his own kind for evil…  That was when his world had shattered.  Somewhere in the whole scheme of things, though, his karma must have been worth something…  Someone sent an angel into his life for a brief nine weeks… And now, now some demon called regret was trying to take his life-force away.

He'd be damned if he was going to let that happen.

Without  even realising what he was doing, he dropped off the seat.  Kneeling before the deathly pale figure lying in the bed he reached out his hand and winced at the coolness of the ashen skin.  Dark hair tumbled across the pallid forehead; a stark contrast.  Moonlight bathed Harry's face; the still mask a mixture of black and white shadows and highlights. Brushing the black shock of hair away from the forehead Malfoy stared down at the sleeping young man as he had unconsciously done a lot during the holiday.  This was a lot different to watching Harry sleep normally, because he wasn't moving… He wasn't breathing as loud…

Hitching the chair closer with his ankle, Malfoy gingerly lowered himself onto it again and took hold of Harry's hand.  Swallowing, he turned the limp hand over and traced his fingers gently over the silver lines criss-crossing the thin wrist.  Here magic had been some good, knitting together the skin, the shimmering silver lines the only sign of the brutal event.  The cuts were obviously done by a desperate man… One searching some kind of release… They weren't correct either.  Someone seriously wanting death and not just some kind of release would have done them vertically, not horizontally…  Malfoy closed his eyes; his soft breath ruffling Harry's hair again.  Harry must _not _have intended on killing himself, surely…  No-one could be that desperate, could they?

Malfoy's mind decided to remind him rather sharply that Harry's way of release from everything was the very option he'd decided to mimic depending on the outcome and knew then, painfully, that sometimes you _can_ be desperate enough to do it.

-----------------------

He sat there just holding Harry's limp hand for… what was it?  His vision was slightly blurry from being constantly on the verge of tears -  made more so by the extreme fatigue… What was it?  Seven hours?  Eight?  An eternity?  Any of these options seemed completely viable.  The rain was still falling; but it was gentler now.  More peaceful.  None of the same hard hitting water shards from earlier.

That had something that had been a part of Malfoy since he was very small.  Harry had picked up on it in the short few weeks of the summer holidays.  Anytime he was passionate about something, whenever all of the emotional turmoil got too much then he'd stop using any kind of emotion. He'd shut off his heart and get clinical, technical about everything.  Harry had disapproved; saying it was usually your head that got you into a lot of trouble in the first place – following your heart seems harder at the beginning but it's easier at the end.

Malfoy tightened his nervous clutch on the lifeless hand and absent-mindedly reached out to push Harry's hair back again; deciding in that moment to listen to his heart.  But what was his heart telling him?  At the moment it was still thudding painfully into his chest.  He felt dizzy, sick, winded… Vulnerable…  Yet it was still so quiet.  Harry's presence made it unnecessary for Malfoy to surround himself with sound.  Harry was the one who made his head spin; made him feel safe.  Made him feel as if finally he meant something in the whole damn world.  His heart was clamouring for attention; it had something to say but he wasn't listening to it.    He never listened to it.  He _should _listen to it.  Swallowing, Malfoy used his spare hand to fish out the tattered scrap of parchment that McGonagall had returned to him.

_I love you, goodbye._

Harry… loved him.  And yet he still tried to… To kill himself.  Something struck at Malfoy's heart and he frowned in contemplation.  Cedric's death bore heavily on Harry's soul as did the return of Voldemort and the recurring nightmares of the murder of his parents at Godric's Hollow.  Maybe this was all his fault.  Perhaps the idea of rejection from Malfoy had been the icing on the cake…  The tip of the iceberg… The straw that broke the camel's back…  Unconsciously squeezing Harry's hand harder he scowled at himself.  All those stupid muggle clichés…  Even those weren't stupid or virulent enough to hide the truth.

He loved Harry.  Everything inside of him knew this… Every fibre of his being, every nuance of his soul.  Yet he denied it.  Denied it because of some throw away comments by someone who thought themselves worthy to be known as his father.  Through all of this denial, though, the truth was he loved Harry and his refusal to admit this to himself earlier had probably contributed to the circumstances that led to this entire situation.

Admitting he was in love was a hard and bitter thing, but once it was all over Malfoy felt… better.  Light-headed.  Dizzy.  Full of the joys of spring.  A spring tainted with the unforgettable frost of winter, but a spring none-the-less.  Now all that it needed was the warmth of the sun to melt his vituperative and slanderous nature and all would be perfect…  Perfect, except the sun wouldn't wake up from the nightmare.

Unconscious of what he was doing, Malfoy slid forwards; brushing his lips gently over Harry's forehead before pulling back and abruptly walking away.  Folding his arms he just stared at Harry and finally… The tears began to fall.  They clouded his vision; choked up his throat; burned at his eyes from the inside out and all he could do was stand there shaking like a leaf, with  the only thought running through his mind:_ why?_

His knees buckling, he barely registered the fact that someone else was there and that they'd just grabbed hold of him.  Throwing all caution to the wind; Malfoy just grabbed onto the person and cried; his whole body shaking from the force of the racking tears.

The tears stopped soon enough.  Pulling abruptly away from the fatherly arms he shuddered and looked up to see a warm brown-eyed man looking at him softly; the little hair still on his head a shocking shade of red.  _A Weasley… _Malfoy blinked up in confusion.  This _was _a Weasley.  Arthur Weasley.

Suddenly embarassed at his actions, Arthur pulled back, looking uneasy.

"I promised your father once that if he ever had any kids that I was to treat them as my own," Arthur said softly; his tone wavering and gentle as the redhead tried not to look at the still man lying in the bed or the defeated silvery-blonde haired young man looking at him; perplexed.  "It was part of an agreement we had long ago…  You never knew we were close, your father and I?"

Malfoy shook his head.  _What in the world?_

"Yes," Arthur said softly; his gaze finally resting on Harry.  "I can't say I've ever been in this precise situation, but I know what you're feeling."

"_How?_"  Malfoy's voice was guttural; his pain imprinted into his vicious tone.  "How can you know what I'm going through?"

Arthur looked saddened.  He folded his hands nervously.  "I've sat there and watched the person I loved slipping away from you and all you can do is sit there futilely letting it slip away!  I know how useless you feel, how inappropriate, how all you can think is that _no-one_ else is worried at all, or that anyone apart from you cares what happens to them.  I know the pain, how you blame yourself even though you know it's crazy.  I know."

Malfoy stared at Arthur; his gaze uncomprehending.  "It _is _my fault," he muttered distractedly.  "If I'd just…"

"What if, what if, what if," Arthur said dismissively.  "It doesn't help.  Harry will be fine, Draco, you know it, I know it.  Whether he remains fine afterwards is entirely up to you."  He gently wrenched his gaze from Harry and settled it on Malfoy.  The Slytherin reeled back from the warmth in the brown depths; it was more than he had ever deserved.  The sudden realisation struck Malfoy like a lightning bolt; leaving him shaken and trembling. 

"_You _were the one my father loved before he married mum…"  Malfoy stared at Arthur; amazement flooding his drained features.  He turned away; eyes skimming over Harry's prone body.  "No wonder he's always taught us to hate the Weasleys."

"Not one of his most spectacular plans I must say," Arthur said wryly before his tone became serious.  "Look, Draco.  I let someone incredibly special to me slip out of my life because I let my pride and insecurities get in the way.  Please don't do that.  Don't lose Harry, because I can tell you… You'll never stop regretting it.  And you'll never stop loving him."

Malfoy was too shaken to say a word.

  
"Make sure you tell him before it's too late," Arthur said; getting to his feet.  Malfoy looked at him impassively before suddenly, impetuously, launching himself around the redhead's neck; just letting himself cry again as the older man soothed him.  "There, there, it's all going to be _fine_," Arthur soothed gently.  He pulled away apologetically.  "I'll leave you on your own again now, but if you need me, I'll be with Professor Dumbledore.   Talk to him.  I know it might not look like he can hear you, but he will."

Malfoy disentangled himself and nodded curtly.  "I…"  Arthur looked at him strangely from the doorway.  "Thank you."

Arthur just smiled once and disappeared; softly closing the door behind him.

Nervously, Malfoy padded across the floor; gingerly lowering himself onto the bed next to Harry.  Taking up his hand again he sighed softly; starting to talk.  His words were rushed and tone low.  "I… I feel stupid frankly, but he's right… I have to tell you…  I…"  he swallowed; the words catching in his throat.  "Please don't leave us, Harry, you can't leave us you can't…"  He almost choked on the words but he squeezed the hand desperately.  "You can't leave me," he said softly.  "I love you Harry.  From the day we met, even with all the arguing and the fights, I love you.  Even though you tried to take away the one thing special in my life – you! – I love you even for that!"  His voice increased.  A faint worry niggled at the back of his mind that perhaps people were listening at the door but he didn't care.  There was no response from the still softly breathing Harry.  Malfoy stared at him, perplexed…  Everything, everything, everything was so damn unfair!  "I need you," he added quietly.  No effect.  Finally, Malfoy gave up and just, simply, lay down next to Harry and fell asleep; still clutching onto Harry's arm.

--------------------------

Something about darkness.  There was something about darkness in his dream, pain… Pain from finally knowing before it was too late that it was all a mistake and then the stupor in which he'd realised it was all too late…  There was no release at all.

Burning… He still burned; a steady dull throb in his temple.  Fire burned his eyelids and he immediately moved to snap them open.  His gaze was fuzzy; the place was light…  White…  The infirmary…

Harry realised with a shock that it hadn't worked.  He hadn't got the release he'd sorely craved or the self actualisation and his limbs felt heavy.  The side of his nose tickled and he couldn't move.  Struggling slightly he realised he didn't have much energy left and sighed; twisting to the right and immediately saw the reason why he couldn't move.

There was an angel.  On his arm.  Harry's ragged breath caught in his throat as the words hit him… He thought he'd dreamed them…

Even though you tried to take away the one thing special in my life – you! – I love you even for that. I need you.

It wasn't a dream.  That hazy thought sparked something deep within and his mouth involuntarily dropped open.  The emotion that suddenly flooded through him baffled him; confounded him as he had before.  His gaze drifted over the distorted figure lying on his arm; noticing with dismay the haggard look of the other. Tugging, he tried to move his hand but the brief movement startled the blonde into movement.  One silver-grey eye snapped open and one moment later there was a thud as Malfoy literally fell off the bed in shock.  Moments later a dishevelled head appeared staring at Harry in bewilderment.

"I… I… Harry!"

Harry attempted to smile weakly and winced.  "Draco," he whispered softly; his throat dry and swollen.  "Would you ever… forgive me?"

Malfoy's sudden gasp and instantaneous reaction of throwing his long, pale arms around Harry's neck in a fervent hug shocked Harry and Malfoy felt his eyes burning again.  "There's nothing to forgive, Harry," he said; his voice gruff.  "As long as you're all right and you won't do it again…"  He pulled back tentatively; waiting for Harry's reaction.  Harry tried to push himself up and managed to get into a semi sitting position; his back propping him up as he rested awkwardly on the headboard.

"Never," Harry said; his tone frank and direct.  "I couldn't… I know I couldn't leave you again."

The sudden change in Malfoy's expression was incredible.  His mouth dropped open and his eyes shone.  He seemed like he was trying to say something, but it appeared he was almost having trouble saying it.  Then the pointy faced boy's jaw set in determination.  "I love you Harry," he said softly; almost defiantly.  "And if you ever try to do _anything _like that again I will kick your butt all the way from here to you-know-who's secret hideout and back again."

Harry was about to protest weakly that he wouldn't when two firm lips decisively claimed his.  Malfoy's lips were insistent and Harry felt himself softly responding as the other pried open his lips with his own.  Harry felt dizzy and he was sure it wasn't from the loss of blood – more from the dizzying sensations of the long-waited for and longed-for kiss.  Surrendering softly to the overwhelming emotions he clung uncertainly onto Malfoy as the Slytherin claimed him for his own.  Malfoy pulled away eventually looking flushed; leaving Harry feeling almost bereft but incredibly tired.

"I love you too," Harry admitted.  Malfoy threw him a charming smirk.

"I know, everyone loves me." The blonde sighed theatrically.  "The problem of being a hot, to-die-for Slytherin, eh?"

Harry stifled a small groan and closed his eyes; wincing at the wave of fatigue that washed over him.  "You're just as obnoxious as always, Malfoy," he said; his tone free of the normal spite that lanced his voice whenever he'd talked to Malfoy in the previous four years of school.

"And you're just as dumb," Malfoy said airily; turning to leave.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked quickly; alarmed.

"To go get Madame Pomfrey, jeez the lack of blood to your brain really does make a difference."  Malfoy crossed the floor again; catching Harry's lips in a gentle but dizzying kiss.  "Look, Harry, if it's the last thing I ever do, you will never leave my side again.  Deal?"

Eyes shining with pure emotion Harry nodded.  The whole room was awash with bright sunshine; melting all the animosity and all signs of winter and Harry's smile was the final ray that made Malfoy feel alive again.  Harry smiled impishly.  "Deal," he agreed.

As he watched Malfoy literally bounce out of the room he allowed himself a small smile of relief.  He had been stupid to think that killing himself could have been an option out of it, but now he knew it was a stupid error, he knew that until his last breath, he would love Draco. 

There was no doubt about it.  

 Loving Draco Malfoy was his first act, final act, and all the acts between until the curtains finally came tumbling down.  Period.

----------------

End

----------------


End file.
